


a moment to breathe

by ikofriendly



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Canon Compliant, Childhood Trauma, F/M, One Shot, Post-Canon, kidliz - Freeform, soul eater manga spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:48:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26693212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikofriendly/pseuds/ikofriendly
Summary: Liz receives an unexpected phone call.
Relationships: Death the Kid/Liz Thompson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	a moment to breathe

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't read/watched SE in awhile, but i tried to be as accurate as possible. i could go more in depth with this. i'm feeling super soft for kidliz so i hope i can keep writing them (kid is hard to nail with no references tbh). i did a couple lil sketches of them on my tumblr @/ikofriendly so feel free to check that out.
> 
> !!major manga spoilers ahead!!

The heels of her boots clacked against the black tile as she strolled down the corridors of the school. She cooly had her hands in the pockets of her jacket and held her head up with purpose. These halls and the people in them knew her, whether or not she knew them. A few underclassmen peaked at her from behind textbooks. Occasionally they would lean over to their friends and whisper. Whatever it was--admiration or jealousy--she ignored them.

Despite her appearance, she buzzed with curiosity. 

She arrived at her destination, the clacks of her heels gone quiet. Her hands were now out of her pockets, resting comfortably on her hips. 

“Did they give you a name?” 

The receptionist shook his head. Curious. There was no one she could think of that wouldn’t directly call her. And if they were making a threat, they must have been smarter than to directly call the school. 

She let out a sigh as she picked up the phone from the desk. It was an old fashioned dial-up with a purple cord that curled around her arm. 

A beat of silence came from the other side, before a crackle hit her ear. “Elizabeth, dearie—”

“Who is this?”

She knew damn well who it was, but she asked anyway. She needed to be sure. So that she would know for sure if she were talking to her deadbeat mom--hardly a mom--the one Liz figured had already kicked the bucket. 

Oh, she wished she was wrong. 

“It’s Teresa. Your mother. This was the only line I could-”

It felt like she was dreaming. The receptionist glanced up at her for a second, probably wondering why she looked so devastated. Her hand coiled around the purple cord, unconsciously gripping it tight enough to turn her hands white.

“You’re not my mother. You were never my mother.” She was shocked at how gruff her voice sounded. 

“Lizzie, wait-”

She hung up. _Elizabeth. Lizzie._ What right did that woman have? All the years she had longed for her mother to call out to her, she had to laugh. Now only two people were allowed to use her full name. 

For a moment she was reminded of all those nights spent in alleyways and abandoned crack houses. Her mom didn’t deserve an ounce of memory. Sickness bubbled at the back of her throat and she had to work to keep her anger at bay. If she didn’t walk back to class, people might get worried. No, they’d just think she left. But she couldn’t sit in there and look at her sister, who she raised single handedly, without letting off that something was wrong. She didn’t want it to become a thing.

The air helped clear her head as she stepped outside. As she rested her arms on the parapet, she could see the whole of Death City beneath her. The view was partly obscured by red spikes, which came from a giant skull and crested over an infinite staircase. The sun loomed bright overhead, the sky empty save for a few swirling clouds. Similarly, there was no one else on the academy’s large overhang. This comforted her slightly as she pulled out the pack of cigarettes she had snagged from a new teacher on the way out. 

The cigarettes she had let go of a long time ago. But she always kept the lighter.

It sparked, and soon the flame turned into a puff of smoke, then was swept away by a breeze that came from being at a high elevation. It was bitter, a taste she was surprised to have forgotten. She let it fall from her lips, the cigarette resting by her leg as she blew out a cloud of gray. It was relieving, almost necessary, though she couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. She was giving into the lifestyle she worked so hard to get away from. The one her mother had forced her into. The one Kid has helped her escape from. Yes, it was bitter.

The city gleamed in her eyes, turned watery from smoke.

“I thought you quit smoking.”

She pivoted, putting out the cigarette as quickly as she had procured it. It fell to the ground, ashes dotting the concrete. Kid stared at her from several feet away, his signature suit pressed to a crisp. He was catlike, his golden eyes running from her empty hand to her surprised face. She hadn’t even heard him approach. For a moment, she resented him. The boy with no imperfections.

It was an intrusive thought that she regretted the second it slipped into her mind. She knew better than anyone what shackled the young god--his fears, his hurt. He was the best of them because of his imperfections. She had grown to accept that and in turn, he grew.

“Fuck, you scared me,” she breathed. “Yeah, I did.”

It was mostly the truth. She could count on one hand the amount of times she had smoked in the past five years. Once, when Patty had pneumonia. Twice, when Kid was trapped in the book of Eibon. And when Lord Death died. 

She grimaced. An estranged mother was a waste of a cigarette.

“How’d you know I was out here?” She asked, trying to avoid any chastising from Kid. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to be in the mood and instead joined her in reclining on the parapet. 

“I had a hunch something was wrong when you got called out of class without notice and didn’t return for an hour.”

She grunted in response. A glance from the side of her eye showed that Kid had turned around and was now looking at the sprawling buildings beneath them. She refocused her gaze forward.

“My mom called.” Her voice felt hollow.

“Your...mom?” He sounded as confused as she felt. His words sounded lost, wisps in the wind that spiraled down to the city.

Rarely did she bring up the topic of her childhood to Kid. When they first met, he helped her work through all of it. He understood, oddly enough. While his situation was wildly different, he knew what it was like to grow up without a maternal figure. No matter how much pride she took in her reputation would wash away the stains of neglect. 

Now, they only discussed the good parts.

“Yeah. Probably wanted money or something, that bitch. Now that she finally learned my name she wants to take advantage of it.”

Kid had one arm resting on the low wall, the other in his pocket as he turned to look at her. His eyes were molten, glimmering in the face of a laughing sun.

“Don’t let her get to you.” A simple sentence, but his voice was strong with sincerity. “Will you tell Patty?”

“No. Patty was too young to remember when we got abandoned,” she said with a harsh laugh. It wasn’t news to him. “She didn’t have screaming matches with a woman who went out every night and returned every morning with someone new. I don’t want her to get hurt anymore.”

He furrowed his brows, likely thinking back to all the horrible stories he had been told.

Sometimes she wondered what it would’ve been like if they had never been left out in the rain that day. They were so young. Too young. She, at age five, had total responsibility over a three year old sister. Too often she felt more like a mother than a sister. There were days spent scraping through trash cans, begging in the streets, and stealing whatever they could. The sole thing their mother did for them was provide good genes. Without their natural charm and weapons capability, they wouldn’t have survived. Kid never would have found them. He never would have saved them.

And now they lived in luxury. She couldn’t ask for anything more. She didn’t need to reconcile with her mother. She had a family--people who truly loved her.

“Well, please don’t ruin your health. If you die, I’ll only have one pistol.” Wouldn’t that be a shame.

He rested his hand on her shoulder for a beat, the cool metal of his rings spreading goosebumps along her arm. Then he walked away, calling over his shoulder. “I’ll be in class and will try my best not to give you anymore reasons to smoke.” He waved his hand back, before disappearing into the school.

She knew she should head back inside, as he had invited her to. But she wanted, for a moment, to breathe. She belonged to no one but this city, who had never asked her to put up a front. And like the clouds above her head, the perfect words from an imperfect boy danced along the sky of her thoughts. It was clear now.


End file.
